


He's oxygen and I'm dying to breathe

by Frankly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asshole Spanking, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Butt Plugs, Coming Untouched, D/s themes, Dirty Talk, Dom Sam, Established Relationship, Feminization, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 15:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3773254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frankly/pseuds/Frankly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every moan and whimper is heralded by the slapping sound of three of Sam’s fingers as they come down not too gently on Dean’s vividly pink, slightly swollen hole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's oxygen and I'm dying to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is mostly (only) porn, and might come off as harsh but in my head the relationship between the boys is very loving and caring.   
> But some warnings might be in order nontheless: slight feminization, slight D/S themes but no real pain and no-one is being tied up, a little dirty talk and slight use of degrading words (like once). Dean is pretty out of it at one point but what's going on is consensual and pre-discussed, and Sam knows his limits. Never do this unless you know your partner is OK with it.

Dean is on his knees in front of his baby brother, who’s sitting with his back reclined against the headboard. He’s straddling Sam’s legs, back in a deep arch, his knees splayed as wide as possible exposing his little hole to the cool air in the room. He’s got his baby brother’s dick so far down his throat he can’t even taste the precome leaking from the slit like a broken faucet, jaw aching around the girth, tongue pinned by the weight. He can’t do much more than moan, which he does loudly, sending vibrations all the way down to Sam’s balls. Sam’s heavy cock in his mouth works just fine as a gag, absorbing some of the sound as to not upset the people in the motel room next to theirs.

Every moan and whimper is heralded by the slapping sound of three of Sam’s fingers as they come down not too gently on Dean’s vividly pink, slightly swollen hole. Each slap is expertly placed to reverberate down to his prostate, his balls, the fucking tip of his cock. His hole, opened up and relaxed from the plug Sam made him wear all day, twitches and tightens for a second after each blow but then relaxes again. He doesn’t move, doesn’t rock his hips or push back into the blows because Sam told him to stay still. So he does. It’s so fucking good he would cry if any other part of his body actually registered. He’s got the best baby brother in the world.

Dean knows it will be a miracle if he last for even a minute when Sam’s had enough and finally decides to move things along and stuff his dick in there. Every touch, every sensation between his legs is heightened so much he dazedly wonders if it would even take lips, tongue, maybe just a breath on his cock head would be enough to set him off right now. He idly wonders what it would feel like to have this done to him at the same time as being buried balls-deep in Sam’s ass. He doesn’t think he’d survive it.

When Sam pulls him off of his cock with a firm grip in his hair and gets behind him, Dean’s so close to turn into liquid form that no further prep is really necessary. He hears Sam slick his cock up and feels the wet press of his cock head at his entrance. Sam pauses there, and Dean’s keening now, can’t hold in the desperate noises and his frustration at not being allowed to push back and impale himself.

“Fuck, Dean, you should see yourself. So fucking hot.” Dean whimpers, pride thrown out the window some time back for the promise of this. He can feel his hole twitching at Sam’s cock, clutching at the tip like it’s trying to draw it inside.

“Fucking hungry cock whore, want me to fuck your little boy cunt?”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease fuck me, please I need it, need it, please…” Dean whispers into the cover.

Sam slaps his dick against the pink furl once and then presses in, a long steady stroke until he’s buried to the hilt. Dean’s eyes roll back in his head, white spots dancing behind his eyelids and fuck yeah, this is not going to take long at all.

For all the self-control he normally has, it’s all shot to hell now. Three long, forcefull strokes of Sam’s cock in his abused hole later, he comes all over himself, screaming. Sammys hand on the back of his neck is pinning him to the bed, muffling his shouts in the sheets. The orgasm intensifies impossibly when his muscles clench up tight, making the drag of dick on his prostate feel even more than a moment ago and he can’t breathe around the sheer ecstasy. He zones out for a while, can’t handle the amount of emotions, and when he comes to again Sam is holding him up by his hips frantically pounding his ass.

This. This is what he lives for. No-one has ever been able to pick him apart and put him back together again the way Sam always has. It hasn’t always been like this, the methods has changed over the years, but this is it in its purest form. Dean lives for this, the way Sam uses him, continues to use him even when he’s not even completely there, the amount of mutual trust and love it takes for Sam to be OK doing this to his big brother in the first place.

Sam shouts and Dean can feel him unloading, shoved as deep as possible, can feel each pulse of come slick his insides. He feels dirty and used and like a come-hungry whore, and so, so loved his heart aches with it. Sam draws back, slides out and Dean automatically clenches up, keeps the come in. The tip of the plug they used earlier that day nudges at his hole, and he relaxes enough to let it inside of him, lets Sam plug him up again, come warm and wet inside, ready to go at any given time.

They fall down on the bed all tangled up, and Dean falls asleep feeling safe and calm or the first time in months.


End file.
